


Citizenship

by TooFazed



Series: Dick Grayson x Blüdhaven Rogues [2]
Category: DCU (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blood As Lube, Body Horror, Cock Cages, Cock Warming, Cock sleeve, Come Inflation, Copious Amounts of Cum, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Death Wish, Degradation, Humiliation, Large Cock, M/M, Mild Gore, Mind Break, Minor Character Death, Nipple Torture, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Object Penetration, Oral Sex, Painful Sex, Sensory Deprivation, Size Difference, Torture, Unrealistic Sex, Urination, light cock torture, stomach inflation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:28:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24358090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TooFazed/pseuds/TooFazed
Summary: It should be over. Why isn’t it over?(Sequel toNaturalization)
Relationships: Roland Desmond/Dick Grayson
Series: Dick Grayson x Blüdhaven Rogues [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1745593
Comments: 8
Kudos: 124





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> _On Blüdhaven Breaking News:_ “Wayne Heir lavishly enrobes Blockbuster’s prodigious manhood!”
> 
> * * *
> 
> This friendly little ghost beseeches you: Read the tags carefully! 👻

Dick feels light-headed and empty as he dangles in front of the villain, limp body only held up by the paw curled around his head. A tremble rushes through him as Desmond admires him silently with a glint in his eyes. The massive thumb in his mouth stretches his jaw out, flattens his tongue. 

It’s as if he isn’t part of this world anymore.

A large hand brushes over his smooth stomach. Dick tries to curl together on instinct, expects the terrible pain. It doesn’t come, but Desmond chuckles, squeezing his ass. Somehow it feels even more bubbly. Soft and plump. 

His injuries are gone like a switch has been pushed and erased his pain with ease. Dick knows he has lost time, but it doesn’t seem like it. He can still feel the pain echo, ready to overthrow him again.

His stomach plunges. Desmond drops him onto the ground between his large spread legs. Sitting there with his legs tangled, half on his side, still so terribly disoriented, he looks up at the monster, then tries to find something that doesn’t make his head spin and his heart gallop. His gaze finds the leather cuffs adorning his wrists. He feels the same tight restriction around his ankles.

“Your confusion is adorable, Nightwing.”

Dick shudders, his breathing elevating. He needs to get away. _Somehow._ The door is right behind him if only-- He barely gets to his knees. A large hand curling around his face steadies him as he sways and nearly falls, forcing him to face the villain properly.

“We haven’t even started yet,” Desmond laughs. A zipper is opened as the thumb pushes back into his mouth. Dick whimpers. “I missed your services, kid.”

Not again, he thinks, eyes widening when Desmond slowly tugs his half-hard cock out of his pants. Panicked, Dick tries to skid away, but the hand keeps him firmly in place.

“Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah! Your probation period is over. Needed to pay a lot to get you back in one piece.”

Dick tries to shake his head, but all it does is push the thumb deeper into his mouth, blunt flesh meeting the back of his throat and forcing a gag. 

“Come now, little hero. Do you really want my fingers instead?”

No. No, he doesn’t. Not with the threat hanging in the air, pressing against his quivering form.

God. What did he expect? He’s naked. Of course, Desmond wants to-- Again. A whimper pushes past his lips. Seeing what carved out his body nearly makes him faint. The big flared mushroom head is easily as big as his head, and there is a faint curve to the length of the thick flesh even as Desmond holds it down at its base.

He’s pushed forward. His trembling lips touch the smooth and warm glans. All he can think about is how it felt while the massive flesh grew inside of him, breaking him apart.

Desmond coos at his reaction, thumb brushing across his cheek, seeming to follow the slope of his cheekbone. 

“Just lick it, kid. Make me as hard as you can. Show me how good you can be.”

Dick doesn’t want to, even if the encouragements help in a way Dick hates. But it’s inevitable. He knows exactly how patient and forgiving Desmond is, which is not at all. Not with him. Not with Gotham trash. Not with Nightwing.

Hesitantly, his tongue brushes against the hot and smooth skin. The taste isn’t bad. Licking won’t hurt him. But at some point, the massive flesh must have been painted with his blood and his intestines. He forces his bitterly clenching jaw open, mindlessly licking on as tears spring to his eyes.

“Mhhh - Ah, yes! That’s the motion,” Desmond moans, content, the hand at the base of his cock slowly starting to brush over his length if the light bobbing is any indication. His tongue catches on the slit. It feels so wide beneath his tongue. “That’s the spot, my little whore. Do that again.”

He does even as a sob threatens to escape his throat, cheeks growing wet. The hand gentles, cradling his head as he teases the slit, cum coating his lips and tongue messily.

“Yes, so good. Use your hands. Come on.”

Dick’s left hand curls around the warm hard monstrous flesh if only to keep his trembling body steady when the hand cradling his head disappears. His fingers caress the pronounced ridge, the touch searing his skin. The slit blows open, another wave of pre-cum wets his face. His violent shudder increases once he feels fleshy protrusions line the ridge. He has heard of them before, pearly penile something-something, a normal anatomical variation, but right now they just make the man he is forced to please even more monstrous. 

Still, he licks into the slit, tonguing at the hole. Roaming his hands over the heated flesh he can reach. It’s better than being taken apart.

His lips close around the slit to suck, a new surge of tears sliding down his cheeks. Desmond moans, humping forward, pleased as he rubs his flesh against Dick’s lips, then against his whole face as the hand presses back to his head. Dick sways with the movement, dreading the outcome. 

“Yes. Yes. Just like that, my little whore.”

Desmond’s hand speeds up, brushing over his whole length. The smooth hard flesh bumps against him, cum accumulating thickly in his mouth as he continues to please the villain. The pungent smell is overwhelming.

Dick feels the first throb around his tongue, slit pulsing shut then open. A deep groan falls past Desmond’s lips just as thick cum flushes into his mouth. Dick chokes, tries to close his mouth when the next splash coats his face. The thumb is back, pressing his jaw down, forcing his mouth open. He tries to hold his breath, but his lungs protest. And he chokes again as his mouth is filled, tries to swallow as his face is drenched. The musky smell is heavier than he remembers, the substance too. And he knows why but doesn’t want to think about how the sperm he had tasted before had been filtered through his whole body before being flushed out again.

Another splatter connects with his face, drips on his tongue. Then the touch and the warmth fall away. Dick gasps as he sways forward, nearly cracking his jaw on the floor. Cum spills out of his mouth, chest jumping with every cut off breath. Slowly, he blinks his eyes open. Pearly cum sticks to his lashes and weights them down. The seed he is bathed in feels cold and sticky.

Desmond watches him with a faint smile. Even flaccid the big cock bulges under the flimsy underwear it’s tugged into.

“Looking good in your new hero suit, Nightwing,” Desmond laughs, and Dick flinches back just to be caught again, big hand easily curling around his frame. Still trembling he falls against the villain’s torso as he is placed onto the large thigh. Fingers tease over his skin, the familiar touch to his flaccid member makes him twitch.

“You know what I want, don’t you, Nightwing?”

Dick just wants to crawl away, but all he can do is shift helplessly, restlessly with his eyes closed while the fingers tease his soft flesh. A warm wet washcloth falls onto his head, gets dragged down to his face, fingers insistently rubbing the cum away and leaving his skin red and raw. The fingers teasing him only leave once the cloth replaces them. It feels harsh surrounding the sensitive skin, but it’s warm and wet and his body heats up, the faint coldness of the drying water dissipates.

His hips twitch, teeth carving deeply into his lip as he sobs.

The cloth is discarded on the ground. A helpless little sound escapes him, eyes opening. He tugs his limbs together in shame, doesn’t want to be so open. Desmond lets him, only for his dry, weighty pinky to plunge into his newly exposed hole. It should hurt, but apart from the light pull at his skin it doesn’t. Even more reason for his breathing to freeze before growing fast again as the finger lazily pushes in and out of him. Fucking him slowly.

“You gonna be so good for me this time, Nightwing,” Desmond promises, half moans, and Dick whimpers, tensing in apprehension as soon as the pinky disappears, expecting something bigger. His breath catches in his throat when he is manhandled, wide eyes on the floor as he is held up by one big paw like a baguette. 

His stomach carves in strangely at the point of contact. Something-- _Something is missing_.

His eyes widen more. A tongue licks along the crack of his ass, hot breath fanning over his lower back then against the gaping blinking hole, curling against his heated walls. Dick chokes on a moan as the tongue pushes into him slippery and hot as it fucks him apart with precision just to pull away, snaking around his rim, licking his plump round cheeks. His sphincter pulses with the emptiness.

“Mhhh, your little prick is already leaking.” 

He whines when the tongue teases the tiny heated flesh, rubbing it insistently to warm and wet the sensitive skin. Just for the organ to press back to his ass, then inside. Desmond’s other hand squeezes his ass, pulling him further open as the villain moans, pushing spit into him to soak his heated walls with slick. The broad tongue touches that place in his ass Dick hasn’t felt in a while, thought he would never again. His body bows with slack tenseness, the promise of a tremendous orgasm just out of reach.

Desmond pulls away with a rough laugh before the warm golden wave can crest. Leaving his body trembling, his ass and prick dripping. Breath hits his plump cheeks.

“Your round juicy chops are so shiny, my little whore, makes me want to--”

Dick cries out, more in surprise than pain when big teeth grind into his left ass cheek just enough to bruise his flesh. A kiss to his ass and his trembling body is dropped onto the familiar desk. Dick stares at the door, if only—A helpless sound escapes him, two fingers are pushing inside of him, then three, testing the stretch without consideration.

Both large, strong hands find his ass, bite throbbing beneath the grasp. Thumbs hook inside his hole to stretch him out far beyond what should be possible. What was impossible the last time he lay on this desk before Desmond had shredded his sphincter with sharp nails and unforgiving knuckles. Desmond moans once his wet insides get exposed, cool air seeming to dry him out.

“Gonna paint your insides white, my little whore. Remind you of your place.”

The head of his cock pushes inside, walls parting, and Dick gasps when the thumbs flick away, his muscles snapping shut around the flared tip like a Venus flytrap. Desmond laughs, rubbing over the smooth muscle. Dick is burning up with the humiliation, nails carving into the wood, and tears blurring his vision. The door is just out of reach.

“Damn, kid. Here I thought your ass couldn’t be approved on,” Desmond groans, moving his hips just enough to create some friction. “I would truly regret breaking you a second time if I couldn’t have this back on a whim. They outdid themselves.” 

Dick claws deeper into the desk, the confirmation that it’s all going to happen again nearly too much. And as easy as the penetration is, it feels unnatural - makes him sick.

His body has been changed, modified in what was to him not even the blink of an eye. Just how long--?

Desmond pushes his ass down, to pin him against the desk as he keeps the shallow trusts up, flared tip barely leaving him. And Dick hates the gratification it gives him. Hates how the new position makes his sensitive flesh hit the harsh desk with every shove. Slowly bruising but leaking pre-cum, nonetheless.

“You like that don’t you? Being used as a prized sex toy.” The hands squeeze his ass tightly together, fingertips digging into the teeth shaped bruises, Desmond pushing just that little bit further in to make him gasp. His prick slaps harshly against the side of the desk, ripping a cry from his throat. “You gonna spill your meager seed again, my little whore?”

He wants to say no, but words still fail him, maybe more than ever. The hands lock around his ankles, push his knees up so his legs are folded at his sides. Desmond laughs as he keens, angle changing. His helpless cock still thump-thump-thumps against the firm wooden desk, and it should hurt, it does hurt but it’s that harsh bruising hurt Dick is far too used to. And with his cock pulsing and burning and wet, his rectum spread around the flared tip, he comes with a shudder that feels barely satisfying, only leaves him wet and leaking. Prick hot and stiff with pulsing pain.

Desmond laughs, letting go of one of his ankles, the other one still harshly pressed to the desk.

“Seems like your little prick actually swelled a bit.” A thumb slides over the length of his aching, sensitive flesh, making him whimper. The cum sticking to his wetted head is brushed off. “Still just a toothpick, though.”

Moments later the thick fingers press to his lips, covering his mouth with cum, then push in, ignoring his sound of protest to curve down his throat and bulge it out painfully. Dick’s ears ring. 

“Fuck,” Desmond moans, hips rolling, glans faintly pushing deeper, his tight hole submerging the flared tip fervently, “had you admitted being such a filthy whore from the very beginning we would have gotten along far better. Could have fucked you within an inch of your life on a moonlit rooftop.”

Dick barely gets the words. His throat is burning, jaw stretched so wide as if someone has shoved a fist past it. The thought leaves him helpless in a sudden terrific moment of pure clarity. Desmond would do anything to him, has proven as much. If a fist blowing out his throat wouldn’t kill him instantly, Desmond would punch his throat open with the same abandon with which he trashed his ass.

The harsh pressure bulging his throat disappears, the world shifts, and suddenly he is back in the air, gravity pulling him further onto Desmond’s large cock till the head hits a blockade. Sharp pain races up his sides, but all Dick can think about is that he didn’t feel the barrier last time. 

A helpless sound falls from his lips, past the fingers still resting in his mouth. He knows what it is, though. Even if the way his bones had protruded against his skin after Desmond fucked him weren’t burned into his mind, he would.

Desmond moans. Fingers make Dick gag again as the unoccupied hand rubs teasingly over his hip. “I hope you can feel it like I do, Nightwing.”

The fingers faintly curl in his throat for one last time, just to make his chest jump as he is strangled from the inside. They wetly pull out of his throat, leaving his mouth unable to close, tongue hanging out. Hands grab his thighs, ready to drag him further down because Desmond doesn’t care. And why would he? It’s all too familiar. He knows what will happen. And he can’t, he just can’t--

“No.” The word is faint and rough, burns in his throat, but it’s the first real word that has left his lips since this nightmare started, and Dick nearly sobs in relief even though he doesn’t know what his refusal will cause. He knows it won’t be good, but, god, he can talk. He can talk and that makes him feel less like the worthless and helpless lifeform Desmond wants him to be.

The hands on his thighs tighten. Dick can feel the villain’s gaze against his skin, but he doesn’t know what he would find were he able to turn.

The chair reclines, and Dick is pulled back against the massive body, head on the villain’s shoulder, heart jackrabbiting. His gaze falls to the expanse of the immense cock not already stuffing him. It’s too much.

Faintly, and a little hysterically, he realizes that the heavy balls seem even thicker than they felt the last time Desmond fucked him.

“Seems as if there is more resistance left in you than just your pelvic floor,” Desmond says wistfully, faintly amused as his hands brush up and down his thighs, dragging them apart until they are fully spread open, knees touching the clothed chest. Dick shudders. Desmond knows exactly how many bones his mere girth is gonna break, and he doesn’t only not care, he _wants_ it. “Your pointless struggling makes me yearn for your tight little body so much more.”

Desmond’s fingers dig deeper into his thighs. “I’ll show you just how good you look when my cock breaks you apart, pushes inside you so deeply that there is nothing else left but me.”

Dick breathes out shakily, feels like an animal caught in a trap, knowing it will die, but still frantically searching for a way out. It’s fruitless, but he tries anyway hand pushing down to push his body up so he can dash for the door. A wave of dizziness sweeps him away, muscles tightening. A gasp of pain falls from his lips merging with Desmond’s moan when his ass clenches around the first inches of the massive cock. So many more to go.

Desmond chuckles at his vain attempt, then the sound turns louder until it’s a whole belly laugh that shifts the cockhead still inside him. A hand condescendingly pats his taut stomach and then stays there as Desmond calms down. Degraded, Dick says nothing, doesn’t even move.

“You just got discharged from the hospital. You won’t go anywhere, Nightwing, but on my cock, of course.” Desmond hums, thumb teasing over the slope of his prominent pelvic bones down to his helpless little prick. It droops feebly between his thighs, twinges of pain ripping through it. “It’s charming though, that you try.”

The big hands change their grip around his thighs, going under them even if it barely seems to change anything, hands engulfing them. The first jolt makes him gasp, pain prickling at his pubic arch. His hands slip at the fabric of Desmond’s suit.

“No!” Dick chokes out, tries to scramble up and away on hands and elbows. He has a chance, he must have. The cock hasn’t advanced further. Nothing is broken. Yet.

Something shifts, a pop resonating through his whole body such a clear forebearer of pain Dick freezes and nearly faints. He is falling and then not at all, as his legs are ripped down, Desmond’s hips driving up. Dick screams unholy and shrill as he is ripped apart by a burning split right through his middle. Pelvis cracking open. Dick’s eyes roll back, limbs spasming, but the sweet, sweet unconsciousness never comes.

“You with me, Nightwing?” Desmond asks. Gently. Amused. Breaking him is a joke. Dick shudders and trembles, quakes like a leaf, feels as fragile as one as the fearful thought rips his mind apart. It’d—He is—

Dick shrieks, the thumb pressing against his pubic arch indents the skin, shifts the bones further apart. 

“Answer me you little selfish bitch,” Desmond growls over the inhuman sounds ripping out of his damaged throat. The pressure falls away. Sobs wreck his frame. His lips part.

“I—I—I—I—I”

It’s more a jumbled sound than words, but his desperation must be enough because Desmond purrs.

“That’s right. That’s all you upper Gotham trash ever think about. Yourself. And you thought you could protect _my_ city?” Desmond questions. For half a second, Dick expects more of the intense pain. “Look down your body, whore.”

Dick can barely move his head, but he does, his bulging stomach an awfully familiar sight that makes him whimper faintly. His shaking only turns stronger. His prick is still awkwardly raised, aching. What’s worse: It’s not over yet, there is still— Dick cries out helplessly as Desmond drags him down until his thighs touch the huge balls, broken bones shifting. The sharp burn of the drag dissipates to lingering pain, but the intense throbbing in his pelvis and lower abdomen doesn’t.

A thumb brushes against his lips, down to his faintly expanded chest and over the taut never-ending distension until it presses to his puffed-out rim.

“You look divine, Nightwing. Even the Bat would tell you that you belong spread around my cock.” 

His legs are raised, knees faintly hitting his chest when the cuffs at his ankles are linked to the cuffs at his wrists. The movement hurts.

“Such a good little stretched out, bloated whore. The perfect heated cock sleeve for the Blockbuster.”

Desmond lets go of his legs, they fall forward, spread. It rips a wave of agony through him, and the angle stretches his inflamed skin, prickling pain advancing menacingly. A hand trails up and down his deformed stomach, ignorant to his pain. A sigh escapes Desmond.

“You kept me occupied for quite a bit. Such a proper whore. But they’ll be hungry.” Desmond suddenly intones, hand tightening. Dick shudders, expects to be used as a pathetic human fleshlight by the paw, hopes he will black out again.

But he isn’t rubbed up and down that hellish cock. No. Instead, Desmond stands up as if Dick isn’t still impaled on his massive flesh. 

Dick swerves, whole body bobbing faintly, and Dick’s vision whites out. Every jostle sending another wave of pain through him, thighs uselessly dangling, making everything appear so much tighter as his hands and feet are caught side by side flush against his broken hips. Spit trails out of his numbing lips. Vomit advances further up his throat with every bob. Or at least it should, but he is utterly empty except for the massive meat that’s widening him out more and more with every tiny movement as if breaking him wasn’t enough.

The cock bounces and swerves, movements uncoordinated and sudden. A steadying touch on his shoulder here and there lessens the infernal pain for but a moment. Fabric brushes over his hips and stomach. It takes a moment to comprehend what is happening past the spikes of pain and the growing numbness that catches him every time the agony lessens but never quite goes away. The drawstring of the loose sports pants is tied just tight enough to keep the cock from bouncing up and down. It’s a faint relief. Until Desmond starts walking again, not as careful as before. The vibrations of the sure heavy footfalls race through him, barely leave him conscious.

A hand presses his head back against the warm body, new pain dives into his pelvis, makes him cry out again and again. Stairs, he registers as his eyes fall open to the sight of the open aquarium. 

The piranhas push to the surface menacingly and fast. Seem to stare at him. Skewered onto the hard length it feels as if he is going to slip off and fall into the water any minute now. His nipples prickle when the first piece of meat is shredded, something warm churning his balls. He hates that the thought turns him on. Hates that he thinks being eaten alive would be better than living on as—as—as Blockbuster’s— 

Desmond absentmindedly squeezes his ass to stop the round flesh from obscenely bouncing against his pelvis as they descend the stairs. Dick’s eyes stay half-open, mind and body numbing further to the pain. He catches a glimpse of their reflection, and as much as he tries, as much as he doesn’t want to see, he can’t help it. 

He doesn’t know if the faint movement of his head registers or if Desmond gets the idea all by himself, but he stops, reflection coming into clear view.

“Magnificent,” is all Desmond can moan, hand curled beneath his chin to hold his head up. His wide fearful eyes stare back at him. Desmond’s large curious fingers roam over his stretched body as Dick shivers and trembles, a sound escaping his throat that’s barely human. “Right out of my dreams.”

The infernal cock carves him out till under his sternum, puffing his chest out, deforming his whole torso as he is held in a faint bow Dick knew was there before but feels more prominent now as it seems to elongate his spin. His skin is smooth and red around the distension. His muscle definition ironed out, except for the slight line that extends from his outstretched naval. The swelling of his hips that he feels so hotly beneath his skin is barely visible, but bruises are forming. His prick hangs in an awkward curve, pushed away from his body with the distention of his pubic arch. His stretched ass holds snuggly to the cock even if a bit of thick flesh has emerged, girth pushing his legs apart, thighs dangling uselessly, knees throbbing. It looks as if they are all that’s left even though he can feel the weight of his folded legs hold his wrists down. Another thought festers, unbidden, roots itself into his mind like a parasite. The sight he is forced to endure promises the future Desmond has for him. A toy, living, breathing but still a toy.

“Yes, _god_ , yes -- Look at yourself, my little whore,” Desmond moans, fueled on by his stricken expression, the whole sight. The loose pants are pushed down the straining thighs, a hand fondling the heavy balls with another moan, propping his caught legs slightly up in the process. Dick feels a sliver of pain light up his pubic arch. The heated flesh inside him twitches, and Dick can barely comprehend the sight when his taut skin expands further with it. His trembling and the movement make Desmond moan on. Fingers splay over his mouth and around his throat as Desmond keeps fondling his balls, begins to shallowly fuck into him with his legs apart. His broken bones shift under his skin. Tears drip down his cheeks, pool on the large fingers. 

“Look how well you are fitted to my cock. Holding me so tightly, so devotedly.”

Dick knows what’s about to happen. He wants to close his eyes. He can’t, can’t help but stare into his own wide eyes, pupils but tiny dots as the cock rubs back and forth beneath his skin, distending him more right in front of his eyes.

“I’m gonna fill you up good. Make you round and lovely.” 

It pulses, squeezes together, and expands, warmth developing in his chest as another deep, saturated moan escapes Desmond, hot flesh twitching right beneath his skin. Deforming his flesh. His breath hitches, he knows what’s going to happen. He gags as cum flushes up his throat, and his vision turns slimy white, eyes burning. Even with the pressure increased, his ass remains painfully closed, seems to suck the cock deeper.

Dick comes up choking, not on sperm but on warm harsh water filling his mouth and flowing into his nose, bubbling over as rough fingers rinse the sperm out.

“Welcome back, Nightwing,” Desmond laughs, fingers teasing along his puffed-out hole to dig beneath the muscle, making him scream from the pressure as cum splashes out before it blinks snuggly closed with a mere pulse. 

Desmond closes the tap. Rubbing them dry. 

The flaccid cock inside of him doesn’t stretch him out fully anymore. His broken pelvis flares with new tortures pain, broken bones not pressed in position.

It should be over. Why isn’t it over?

“’ea’.” It’s pathetic, really, Dick thinks as tears gather in his eyes again. _Pleasepleaseplease – no more_.

Desmond coos, brushing through his damp hair as he settles on the couch, sports pants pulled back over his hips. 

“Don’t fret. You’ll get used to, _heh,_ being blockbuster-ed in no time,” a hand caresses his abused belly appreciatingly, “my beautiful little whore.”

Dick whimpers. A thumb pushes back into his mouth to pull it open, and his eyes widen when a tube touches his lips, brushes across his tongue. Another sound escapes him, the helpless wiggle nearly blacking him out again. It trails down his throat, undisturbed, and Dick gags as it’s forced ever deeper. An unpleasant burn trails behind it, every swallow scratches. Dick didn’t believe he could feel even more shaken just a few seconds ago, but he does now.

Desmond connects a bag to the long clear tube, and Dick slightly sags in relief when he can read the nutrition description, sob pushing past his throat and shooting new tears to his eyes as it constricts around the tube. It’s not supposed to go in there, not through his mouth. His tears burn, Desmond’s cum still saturating his bodily fluids. 

His mouth desperately moves around the tube, he wishes he could taste the orange liquid. As bad as it would tastes, at least it wouldn’t be the villain’s sperm.

A finger caresses his cheek, hand splayed over his throat and collarbone. 

“Look at you trying to suck it in. Is your mouth so lonely without my fingers?”

The words make him close his eyes; face scrunching up bitterly. Desmond laughs, amusement clear.

“I know you’re a greedy little whore, Nightwing. No necessity to hide it.” Fingers begin to stroke his swollen and inflamed pelvis, the touch doesn’t hurt, but the threat is there. “Get some rest. You’ll need it.”

The hands fall away, his vision turning black when a satin blindfold slips over his eyes, knotted behind his head. Despite Desmond’s words Dick’s breathing speeds up, enhancing the burning in his throat. 

“Calm down, or I’ll gag you up with something else.”

Dick whimpers, tries. Satisfied with his attempt, Desmond reclines further. Something clinks. Desmond swallows. A beverage, maybe coffee. Dick tries to catch the smell and can’t.

The thick arms brush against his sides, hairs tingling his skin, legs slightly shifting beneath him. The movements are confusing until Dick hears the clicking of the keyboard. Hesitantly, he relaxes on top of the large body.

“Good boy,” Desmond praises, distractedly, and Dick whimpers, tries not to cry. His eyes close, his vision dark anyway. He concentrates on his breathing, tries to enter a meditative state to flush the pain away for at least a bit, and figure out what’s wrong with his insides except for the cock carving him out and the broken bones. It’s difficult though, and when he thinks that thread that will give him clarity is just within reach, he jerks - ringtone shocking his relaxed mind awake. The pain returns full force, leaving him heaving, and then gagging when the tube reminds him of its presence.

Fingers move to his mouth, rubbing across his lips. Dick shudders, whimpers quietly as the ringing of the phone is silenced.

“Good evening, consigliere.” Desmond greets, warmth in his tone. Before Dick can even begin to wonder, who it might be, Desmond laughs. “Mother, please.”

Dread curls in his belly. He feels even more obscene. As if somehow Desmond’s mother can see him spread over her son’s flesh.

“I’m not overworking myself,” Desmond says, pulling at the tube. “I know, it’s late.”

Dick wonders if it’s done. The bag wasn’t big, but he still feels so empty. But no—no, it’s not that. The burning returns, fingers bumping against his tender lips when the tube is pushed back in.

“I got caught up with work unrelated things. Well, almost work unrelated things.”

Desmond chuckles, languidly fucking his throat with the tube. Dick never feels the end of it, knows it’s still in his stomach.

“No, not—Hmmm.”

Desmond laughs, slowly pulling the tube out of his shaking and hot body. His throat feels raw and open, tongue twitching.

“Well,” Desmond says, faintly squeezing him in a massive paw, “I might be attached to someone.”

Dick shudders, eyes shutting.

“Oh, surely you would call him a distraction.” A hand pats his stomach, “I can’t deny that he is.”

A silent wait.

“Of course, mother. See you soon.”

A sigh falls past Desmond’s lips, phone undoubtedly placed away. He shifts upward, rearranging them both. Dick whimpers when his pelvis moves, and he is forced into the mockery of a kneel or rather bow as the weight of the cock pushes his upper body into a bend.

“Shshshsh, it’s not time for you yet. Be a good patient little whore.”

The clacking continues, then it stops, Desmond considering whatever is on his screen. Dick desperately tries to find even a hint of peace again, but his pelvis burns, innards on fire.

“Does anything else hurt other than your pelvis?”

Dick faintly twitches, realizes Desmond is talking to him past the slowly descending darkness, and he makes a sound that could mean anything. Desmond hums, clearly amused. A finger pushes crookedly against his numb mouth.

“Open your mouth if it’s a yes.”

Dick doesn’t because he doesn’t know, and he can’t move. Without comment, Desmond concentrates back on his task. The darkness caresses his vision but never truly takes him as he kneels in Desmond’s lap, torso nearly pushed to his knees from the weight that pulls him down. A faraway look glazes his eyes, mouth open. His mind is jumbled and knotted, desperately fights for clarity. 

It takes a long time before Desmond moves again, massive form sprawling against the couch and then stretching. Dick barely has any feeling left in his whole body. The pressure of the cock, his cuffed hands, and thighs, the bow he has been forced into all working against him. 

It’s a surprise when the pressure moves from his bladder. Droplets falling out before Dick can even think to tighten the muscle. Of course, that tightens his ass too.

Desmond chuckles when he notices, moving already as he says, “Is your little worm active again?”

Fingers brush over the tip, halting when Desmond realizes it’s not pre-cum escaping his slit. Dick sobs, desperate sounds turning louder as Desmond sits up straighter, locking him up. A hand pushes him back against the torso, a little more piss trickles out. He feels like the loose switch of a leaking faucet.

“Oh my, can Gotham truly not toilet train her sons anymore? Or is it just you, she couldn’t subdue?” His glans is squeezed between the big thumbs, his muscles locking up in pain as he wails. “Did your damp little worm just have to act up? Remind me that you’re nothing but a filthy street whore I graciously employed to take care of my cock? I should get that appalling grub removed too.”

It’s not the removed that makes his fear spike or the degradation of his prick to a mere grub. It’s the 'too'.

“Was that all?” Desmond asks, after a moment, heat rising in his words, “Did you ruin my carpet for three measly droplets, you little bitch?”

Dick whimpers as Desmond shifts back and forth, easing the pressure just to block his canal up again. It’s a cruel game that slowly tugs on his insides, makes him cry and shake while Desmond plays with his prick—with the worm, the grub. 

“Look at you trying to piss and not knowing how.”

Between the big fingers and as wet as it becomes, the meager piece of flesh feels bizarre, like a sloppy and tasteless imitation of the powerful shaft that’s slowly filling him out again, locking him further until he couldn’t find relief even if he wanted to. 

The pretense falls away. Desmond fucks up into him, not fully raising him but still – his loose body bounces on the cock, the pain flares, and flares, higher and higher, consuming him.

Cock pulsing, he is flooded again. Humiliated and ruined, it’s as if his self is rinsed out bit by bit with every new wave of thin cum. This time he can feel it emerge from his ass, smearing his backside.

“Fuck,” Desmond groans, tilting his head back with a hand splayed over his throat so Dick is forced to look at him. 

“Such a beautiful little whore you make, Nightwing. If you could see yourself now, you’d agree,” Desmond moans, “You look like your precious Goddess of Justice with her sword up her ass, like the Blessed Virgin Mary crying tears of cum.” 

Post-coital tiredness relaxes Desmond’s muscles as he lounges against the couch. Satisfied.

“You’ve got me so spend, my little whore. Couldn’t even properly fill up your greedy little body. You milked me so good today.” Desmond mumbles on lazily, thumb rubbing his bloated stomach, digging slightly in to roll his skin. More cum presses past his lips, through his tear ducts, ass wetly pushed apart as it streams out before his rim dully tries to tighten around the sticky base again. “Your insides are so damp. Warm and squishy. _Mhhhh._ Been inside you for so many hours now.”

The thighs fall wider open, Desmond leaning back further.

“Might as well show you what real piss feels like, smells like, tastes like,” Desmond says drowsily, tugging lightly at the damp worm between his legs, “get you used to the feeling.”

Desmond laughs cruelly. “You gonna stay on my cock for a while yet. Wouldn’t want you to die from those measly fractures.”

Dick would take dying over being filled with cum and piss, but he doesn’t get a say. Dick smells the stench before the taste registers. It burns through his orifices, streaming faster and hotter than the cum he is already filled with. And Dick feels—he doesn’t know how he feels. His body is beyond violated, beyond broken, stuffed fuller than ever before as fluids drown him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _On Blüdhaven Breaking News:_ “Wayne Heir’s true wantonness revealed!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 👻 Added Tags after Dead Dove. 👻

The white ceiling shifts in and out of focus, his vision darkens then brightens again. Breathing consciously is so draining with Desmond’s cock already hollowing him out, Dick wishes he could just stop. With every strenuous inhale, his skin desperately stretches out so much more it feels as if it’s going to give every time.

“Good morning, little hero,” Desmond hums, appreciatingly caressing over his pelvis, contouring the bones. Unbroken.

It doesn’t hurt. Nothing hurts.

A sob dislodges from his throat. His body begins to shake because _it doesn’t hurt_. _Desmond is inside him, and it doesn’t hurt._

Desmond shifts and he shifts with him caught as he is. A much too large mouth settles between his shoulder blades in a mockery of a kiss, the same time a hand rises to cradle his head, palm darkening his swimming vision.

“Shush, Nightwing. I won’t hurt you. Except if you make me. Except if you forget your place,” Desmond murmurs against his skin, hand trailing down, wetting his face and chest with his tears before both of the massive hands curl around his thighs to spread them open until his legs are forced to hook behind the massive thighs, their skin lining up.

“Look in the mirror, look at your stunning self.”

Dick raises his head jerkily, vision still blurred but every blink clears his sight a little more. Mutely he stares at their reflection. Without the torturous pain of broken bones and the horrible numbness accompanying the pain, being stretched out far beyond what his body should be able to take seems even more unreal. Their reflection should be nothing but a cheap trick. A reflection in a carnival mirror.

Dick doesn’t know how many days it has been since the monster filled up his broken insides. The new sensation Desmond forced him to experience makes the absence of pain all the more jarring. How hot Desmond’s…. how hot _it_ felt cursing beneath his skin like a thousand tiny rapids ripping him apart.

There is nothing afterward. He doesn’t know how long Desmond kept his wrecked body on his flaccid cock. If he was used again and again, torn open until nothing remained.

The finger’s tease over his stretched open thighs until he reluctantly focuses on Desmond once again.

“Don’t just admire yourself with a glance. Touch your beautifully spread-out body.”

The blue eyes gaze at him in fervent hunger, and Dick doesn’t want to, hesitates, but he slowly raises his hands soon after if only because he fears the punishment. They shakily hover just above his reddened skin, repulsion holding him back while his heart gallops beneath the thin and tense flesh that’s left. The harsh beats take his breath away just as much as the massive shaft.

“Ah. Ah. Ah. Ah. What’s with the faux shyness, my little whore? Stimulate my cock.”

Breath ruffles his hair, fingertips pressing into his thighs as the monster leers down at him, and Dick lets his hands sink onto his straining skin in fear, biting his lip to hold the whimper in. Fresh tears spill past his lashes, skin unnaturally hot where he touches as if he is dying of a fever. Not as if it feels like him at all. His insides don’t belong to him anymore… there is only Desmond.

While he slowly follows the lines of the pressed-out bulge with his fingers, a mouth settles on his neck, lips nearly covering the whole expanse of the vulnerable skin.

“Squeeze me through your flesh, make me feel you,” Desmond whispers, hot and wet.

Dick does, fingers digging into his own flesh until he feels the resistance, and Desmond moans, hands squeezing his thighs as he leans against the backrest of the couch, appreciatingly watching his tentative moves, hand rising to clasp around his neck to hold him upright. The heated flesh twitches and pulses with his stimuli, makes him shift now and then. Desmond’s coarse hair shaves against his ass. After all the pain the inconsequential itch feels odd, plain bizarre after being too numb and broken to care about it.

He cubs what he can of the glans, somehow seems to feel the smoothness stick to his skin. Sweat gathers along his spine when he remembers how it had felt between his hands, the prominent flared ridge, and the pearly penile lumps. Bitterness expands in his mouth but there is nothing to expel, nothing except for the pre-cum he can already taste at the back of his throat.

“Such a gorgeous little whore,” Desmond growls, large hands lining up with his feet to push his legs up, knees meeting his chest. Dick whimpers, hands losing their place as the thick shaft emerges, and he blinks his eyes open, shudder taking him. His rim or what has to be his rim looks dusted red even before Desmond pushes him off his cock, exposing his widened gaping hole. The deep dark endless red shows so clearly that there is nothing left inside him, uneven walls trying to clench shut again with every near inconsequential pulse.

The cool air reaches inside of him like a ghost’s touch, so deeply Dick doesn’t know where he begins.

“Look at your shiny red insides, that perfectly circular darkened rim. No prolapse, just flawless dilatation forming a deep hot pleasure cave that’s made for my cock.”

The shiny pink glans touches his spasming rim once more, slowly pushes inside again, so smooth and wet it sends a spark of pleasure through his body. This time Dick feels it, something just beneath his skin like a slithering snake, widening his pelvis just enough to make room for the engorged flesh.

Desmond hums, not quite lowering him completely before raising him again, forcing him to watch how his body rearranges.

“Such a perfect little toy.”

Past the shock and the dread, his skin warms with every slow drag of the deep but gentle thrusts. The shifting ring that rounds his pelvis tickles every time it expands and narrows again, pain just out of reach.

Dick whines weakly as he is raised and lowered, unable to escape the abnormal stimulation. A warm tingle begins to rise, taking over his ass then traveling up his spine, falling to his chest cresting in his groin.

Desmond chuckles, eagerly taking in every twitch of his powerless body as his unwanted arousal rises further.

“People are asking after you, my little whore,” Desmond murmurs, relaxing with the pleasure and the knowledge that he is forced to enjoy it too, “Even Soames. ’m sure you thought he doesn’t like you, huh? But no, no, _nooouh_.”

Dick lets out a quiet helpless gasp when the deeper, slightly faster thrust fills him completely, forcing him upright, spine straight, and chest puffed out.

“Even the deadly Dudley Soames looked at your ass when he should have been watching the floor!” Desmond growls, and Dick can’t help squeezing around the thick length as fingertips bruise his thighs, “Made me want to twist his fucking neck every night.”

Desmond holds him down, blue eyes ravenous and teeth showing. Useless vowels tumble out of Dick’s mouth, the only way he can complain when thumbs press to his nipples, circling the sensitive flesh, the friction ridges scraping at them, while the other large fingers are placed over his stretched skin, slightly pressing in to show the bulge off more. 

“He’d cream his pants if he saw you now.”

Dick whimpers, his nipples getting caught between the thick forefingers and thumbs.

“Stretched out by my cock, enjoying yourself so immensely.”

Desmond makes him cry out, twisting his nipples, leaving him gasping with every new turn. Back and forth, back and forth it goes. His hips jerk as he wiggles around the flesh, trying to escape but all it does is make his insides rub around the thick hard length without Desmond having to move his hips.

His nipples prickle, crude stimulation fueling the warmth of his hot insides. Dick doesn’t want it. Doesn’t want the heat and the churning, but it’s better than the gut-wrenching pain... _the gut. wrenching. pain._ So, so much better.

And he’s burning up with it, prick ( _worm – grub_ ) pulsing, sprinkling droplets of cum onto the floor.

Desmond laughs, fingers leaving his puffed and shaved nipples.

“Such a perfect little whore.”

A finger hooks into his mouth and stretches his cheek out to pull him back into a bow. His eyes grow half-lidded, body distending further.

“I didn’t even have to say anything.”

The wide-stretched grin looks unholy. Finger faintly caressing his soft flesh.

“Your little worm is trainable after all. Let me see what else you’ve learned since your first evaluation.”

Dick whimpers, gasping when the thick arms push beneath his thighs, hiking them up. Hands clasp together behind his neck. Dick stares at his dangling legs, eyes widening because he knows that view intimately. His head snaps up panicked eyes meeting the feverish blue reflected by the mirror.

_“Please! No! Desmond!”_

His scream echoes, he is filled so fast and hard for a moment all he can feel is the vivid pain he still remembers so clearly, and he howls.

It has only been two days. Two days of torture. Two days of Desmond breaking his body like it’s fun in ways Dick never imagined he would be broken.

At least two days for him.

The pain never truly comes. His flesh and bones don’t care for the large intrusion. Numbness shuts him out, his mind denying the truth. The daze and the limpness don’t deter Desmond from using him as a fuck toy, plowing inside him without any thought, chasing his orgasm in a frenzy like that very first time.

His body slides up and down the long thick shaft without so much as a hint of resistance. Smooth flesh parting for the hard hotness, friction growing into a heat Dick begins to feel in his balls all too soon.

_No!_

But the heat is there, wherever he wants it or not, and the heat is only fueled by the expanding ring beneath his skin, pressing his pelvis out whitely with every fast, harsh trust.

Desmond empties his balls so terribly deep inside of him Dick feels the seed fill his throat before it ever smooths out the crooks and crannies left by Desmond’s cock.

His body spasms, rivulets of cum streaming down his face. The seminal fluid whitening his vision and burning his eyes isn’t enough to obscure his view completely. It’s the first time he can see how he looks with cum overflowing his tear ducts, his nose, and his mouth. The first time he orgasms to the sensation, prick twitching and pulsing but no meager seed left.

He heaves, convulsing around the vile flesh.

“ _Fuck,_ yes, yes! Take it all from me, you little bitch.”

Sperm trails from his open mouth, down his bowing tongue, mixed with spit and acid and things Dick can’t describe.

He should be disgusted, should be screaming… but it doesn’t really matter anymore, does it? It… It won’t stop.

Desmond laughs in delight, fingers caressing the scars covering his back.

“Fucked out suits you. Never thought you’d make that face.”

One hand pulls him straight on the flaccid cock, other picking up a warm damp washcloth to clean his face. The motions are gentler than last time, thumbs brushing along his cheeks to gather the cum up. Dick knows it’s only so Desmond can see how he reacts. The wetness gathering in his eyes only pushes more thin sperm out, but before the salty substance can trail down his cheeks, it’s gathered up lovingly.

Desmond coos. His lips are stretched into a wide grin though, eyes glinting treacherously.

Deeming his face appropriately cleaned, Desmond lazily pushes a basin beneath him with a foot, fingers pressing inside his hole then into his skin to stretch him out further. The harsh inconsiderate motion nearly makes Dick faint. And then, the first stream of cum bubbles out of him, frothy and in trails, but here is more that’s trying to get out. Dick digs his fingers into the broad arms, ripping on the hairs as he feels the fluid advance. The gush of cum presses him apart, and his mouth widens with a silent cry, eyebrows curling as the pressure escapes, fluids splashing into the basin.

Desmond chuckles, rubbing his exposed insides cruelly.

“Such a good look on you. Cleaning might just become my new favorite part.”

His legs shake when Desmond lets go, wiping his fingers. He nearly slips off the flaccid cock into the puddle of cum before Desmond catches him, splaying him out across the massive torso as Desmond settles down on the couch, huge frame barely fitting onto it. A hand brushes through his hair, and Dick whimpers, pulls his shaking legs closed. It doesn’t help to retain the warmth, not with his ass still blown wide open, and-- _no, no, no,_ he wishes he didn’t know how it looks.

Tears wetting his lashes, he tries to find the warmth his body can’t retain by nuzzling against the monster beneath him, and he wishes he wouldn’t, but it’s the only thing he has.

Desmond’s fingers gently trail along his back in appreciation.

“Are you cold, little hero?”

A second kiss is brushed between his shoulder blades. Cowering, Dick trembles.

Without anything filling him all he can feel is the emptiness. The harsh cold air streams through his hollowed insides. Quaking helplessly, he presses against the fingers when they trail along the wide rim of his blown-out opening.

Desmond chuckles, warm hand pressing over his ass, but it barely soothes him, doesn’t feel right, unpleasant in a way that makes him fuss.

“Do you want me to take a look?” Desmond asks, finger beneath his chin forcing him to look up. Dick stares near unseeing.

Desmond is content enough to tease along his skin without expecting his slumped body to get up, but the hand disappears, and the cruel air streams back inside of him. 

Eventually, Dick rises, still trembling and not truly knowing what he hopes to gain or what Desmond expects. The hands guide him to sink down over the villain’s head, thighs just barely long enough to keep him above the large mouth. He keens when the tongue dips into his hole, not filling him completely but enough to heat him up.

Desmond chuckles, one hand splayed over his lower back, the other around his right thigh, he is raised the slightest bit so the strong tongue can lick from his ass to his cock.

“Say thank you, my little whore,” Desmond whispers between licks, and Dick whimpers, only trembling harder. “Say my name.”

“’tha’ ’esm’,” Dick gasps as the tongue slips inside his craving body properly, and Desmond chuckles, kiss to his perineum causing his legs to shake even in the tight grasp.

“Try that again.”

“’thn’ ’esmn’,” he chokes out when the tongue pushes deep inside of him, lingering contemplatively before pulling back out.

“Again, Nightwing. Just my name”

“’esmon’,” Dick cries as hands start bruising his thighs, tiny jerky motions making him fuck himself on the wet tongue. His body shakes when Desmond laughs, tip of his tongue fluttering against his stretched rim.

“That’s right, my little whore, say my name,” Desmond growls, thrusting in properly, teeth pressing into his skin, and Dick cries out helplessly, “ _Desmn’—‘esmon’—‘Desmon’!_ ”, coming with a shudder that heats his spine and legs, leaving him dazed and slack in the villain’s grip.

The tongue rubs against his pulsing prick until Dick whines, trying to get away from the cruel stimulation.

“That’s right, my little toy. Who do you belong to?” Desmond asks, blue eyes never leaving his face as he is dragged down the large body, back over the massive half-hard cock. Dick stares at him, unseeing and boneless as he lays spread out on the villain. A hand in his hair keeps his head from rolling to the side.

“’ _esmond._ ”

.

.

His nipples are pinched as he writhes on the large cock, fingertips tugging at the nubs as he cries his throat hoarse. They squeeze his areolas until wetness emerges, until the vulnerable flesh feels misshapen and torn.

“Should have known that needs training too.”

.

.

.

He is naked. He always is. Feels like he is floating. Again. Never quite touching the cold tiles, merely hovering. Only the weight around his wrists and ankles hold him down. The sturdy heavy metal around his neck shifts when he moves, loose to give Desmond’s fingers access to his throat. Dick wishes it were tighter. It bruises his collar bone, and he doesn’t like the fingers anyway. All they ever do is bring pain.

There is a voice at the edge of his awareness Dick doesn’t recognize, no matter that it seems familiar.

Slowly he uncurls, the faint tight weight of the cuffs the only indication as to where his useless limbs are.

“and I… Is that Grayson?”

Dick’s head rolls to the side, eyes falling open to stare at the man with the familiar voice.

“ _Mhm._ Have you made it clear to them what will happen if they haven’t paid up by tomorrow?”

“I—,” The hazel eyes flicker away from him– “Yes, of course, boss.” –just to return as fast as they left, and Dick stares mutely through the inconsequential man.

_This room._

He hasn’t been in this room for a while. It’s an important room. That door behind that man means something.

It’s important.

Dick shifts onto his stomach, chin on his hands, head tilting curiously, muscles coiling tight.

_Leave. Leave. Leave, Dick. Go._

“You keep looking, Soames.” Silence. “You want to fuck my little whore?”

Dick blinks, focusing on the man in front of the door. Soames. Shift Manager. _Oh._

“Boss, I wouldn’t—”

“Step closer if you want to.”

Dick shudders, the words are unexpected, and he curls together like a cowering animal. The idea of this man tugging his flesh out to find pleasure inside of him sickens him. He doesn’t want a sloppy worm in his ass, something that can barely fill him.

The noise of distress falling past his lips, the slight shift of his naked body makes Soames smile brightly, teeth showing to his gums and tongue all but running over his lips.

“Fuck, Boss, you have no idea—”

Dick startles, registering the shadow before Soames ever does. A big paw engulfs the fragile head, a snap of a wrist makes the clothed body jerk. Dick’s eyes widen when Soames drops like a flopping fish, hand still half down his trousers, head twisted 180 degrees.

A high-pitched noise escapes him. He is crawling forward on shaking limbs before he knows it, craving to help. Cold terror runs through him once he reaches the spasming frame. Soames is still alive. Eyes open, and pupils pinpricked.

A coo leaves his lips as he places a trembling hand on the twisted throat, forehead pressing against the temple of the bent head, trying to comfort the man. Not meaning to cause further distress, he silences the nonsensical sounds developing in his throat. Knows they won’t help, no matter how natural they seem to him by now.

Carefully he curls his naked body around the line of the clothed shoulders, other hand placed on the jerking chest. It’s the bare bones of a hug, all Dick can give to try to make sure Soames knows he isn’t alone. Dick will offer him the meager warmth he can still give.

Eventually, Soames stills completely, and before Dick can fully uncurl and close the unseeing eyes with a trembling hand, the chain jingles, loose collar tightening along his throat. His sensitive body is dragged across the floor, up the strong clothed leg until he is forced to straddle the large thigh.

In opposition to the cooling corpse and the hard floor, Desmond is warm, and Dick shudders, snuggles up to him, nuzzling against the clothed pec, fabric straining over the steely muscles. Desmond pets his head, then his neck until the big paw stretches around his shoulders.

“Such a model citizen, trying to ease the suffering of a Blüdhaven native.”

Desmond opens his mouth with a thumb, lips placed on his in a mockery of a kiss before he is nudged to take care of the hardening cock.

“Just don’t forget who naturalized you.”

A hand on his thigh keeps him secure as he leans forward, embracing the massive cock with his arms, mouthing at the tip. His ass is squeezed in appreciation, then Desmond rolls closer to the desk, papers shuffling.

Dick tongues the slit, nuzzles the glans, hair falling around his face, fingers gently teasing the pearly penile lumps the way Desmond likes it before his hands slide lower, rubbing up and down the hard length.

Desmond hums, patting his round ass until it bounces faintly. A pen clicks rhythmically against the desk.

Dick lathers the pearly lumps with spit, curls his tongue, mouths along the pronounced ridge, one hand curved around the protrusion. He gently scratches through the trimmed hair, before descending his hand further to palm the huge balls with his free hand, continues to pleasure the pulsing slit. Tongue lathering with the familiar substance.

Desmond sighs, chest moving, and Dick shifts to look up as he licks, a hand cards through his hair, admiring gaze on him before he is nudged back to slurp up the pre-cum escaping the widening hole. The hands disappear from his skin, and Dick pushes closer to the hard length, lathering it with the attention and warmth it deserves.

Something presses between his shoulder blade, so thin it nearly feels sharp. A large hand covers the small one he still has on Desmond’s swollen balls.

Desmond cubs himself. The thing descents along Dick’s spine, then up again, drawing nonsensical patterns over his back as he eats the slit out, needing to be good.

Dick mewls when the thing passes his tailbone, and presses against his puckered if lightly gaping hole. It pushes in, flaring out fast, and Dick holds onto the heated flesh, body arching as he is pressed apart, jerkily trying to look back, spine awkwardly bending, spit flowing out of his mouth as he catches sight of the pen. It forces him straight soon after, makes him tremble violently, and the tears flow out of his wide eyes as it tucks and pulls on his insides by simply sliding in and out, nowhere near as large and long as Desmond’s cock but entirely unforgiving.

A paper is scrunched up and thrown away.

“Soames wouldn’t have been that big. Nowhere near as hard,” Desmond shoves the rest inside of him with his thumb, not holding it there even though his ass is desperately trying to expel it. “His feeble cock would have flopped inside you like a fish too.”

Desmond delicately grasps the pen before it can fully emerge, and Dick arches with a gasp, helpless to the rough ministrations as the hard stick begins to fuck into him. There is nothing nice about it, it’s just meant to hurt, to pinch his insides and leave burning trails behind.

“Your ass is clenching so tightly around it. So greedy for the tiniest stuffing.”

Dick whimpers, crying when the pen is ripped out of his ass so fast it stings. A crude slap to the gaping rim thunders in his ears, not unlike his heartbeat. And he gasps.

“You think Soames could have satisfied you?”

Another cry rips out of him as hands begin to knead his ass cheeks, stretching the raw sphincter more until Dick is a blubbering mess spread across the large thighs.

“That’s right. He wouldn’t have known what to do with you.”

Desmond spreads his cheeks apart. His rim pulses, trying to shut, but it’s always open enough to let Desmond fit two fingers inside of him at any given time. The pen didn’t stretch him out that much more.

Spit touches his hole, pushed deeper by a finger that makes him whimper. His walls feel scratched. Desmond flattens him with a hand to his neck when he tries to curl together, finger twisting this and that way in his ass. Forcing him further open under screams.

“He’s gonna start to smell soon. Such a fucking idiot.”

Desmond grabs him around his stomach, placing him above the tip of his cock, one digit stretching his slick but damaged insides out to make him slide over the still a bit sticky glans. Desmond is already rising as one shove pushes him deeper, and Dick’s stomach tightens in shock when the smoothness seems gone. He has no time to comprehend what might be happening, as two, three offhand shoves pop his resisting body around the hard flesh like a second skin. A gasp gets stuck in his throat, and his vision grows narrow, trickle of pain running up his sides as he trembles. _So tight._ _So full._

His toes lose their feeling after the first few steps Desmond takes, feet prickling.

_No. No. No. Not again._

His trembling form is held against the bulky body as Desmond picks up Soames, the corpse dragging across the tiles as they venture towards the fish tank. A leather armchair has been placed in front of it, and Desmond sits down, Soames head still grasped in one big paw.

Dick blinks at their reflection, fingers tentatively sliding over his outstretched skin from the glans to his widened hips, wondering why it feels different, but his thoughts are jumbled, and his analytical mind has been pushed far back into the darkness. Thinking too much will only break him more. 

“ _Mhhh._ You learn so fast my little whore,” Desmond praises, thumb brushing along his lips and slipping in when he opens his mouth to let it flatten his tongue and keep his jaw open, “Think you can fuck yourself on my cock?”

Dick blinks, staring at his kneeling reflection, monstrous flesh pushing him out and legs so weak. The hand falls from his skin, Desmond leaning back, arm behind the couch.

It wasn’t a question.

After a few seconds of inaction, he wiggles, reaching for Desmond, and getting a fistful of his shirt. Pushing his unfeeling feet against the leather, he rises off the hard, thick length with wobbly legs and nearly faints, sensations too much for his eyes not to cross. His legs give in, gaping body swallowing half of the huge length violently before tightening in shock, the new bruising making him choke.

Desmond groans, hand shooting out as if to steady him.

“Nearly. Pick up a rhythm. Nice and easy.”

Dick’s mouth moves uselessly, then he shakily rises again, knowing Desmond won’t like it if he stops now. He manages to retain his control when he pushes down with the hand to hold onto, feels his body open a little past the new-old resistance. His pelvis looks obscenely wide, tickling snake slithering beneath his skin, urging him on.

Satisfied with his attempts, Desmond throws Soames into the fish tank.

The freed hands find his chest like they tend to do, fingers teasing his puffed nipples while he spears himself on the cock, trembling hands switching to the thick arms to hold himself steady and push up again, motions growing a little smoother with every slide as his glazed eyes watch the corpse get shredded.

“Come on, little one. Please my whole length.”

Dick closes his eyes but does as told, hopes it will ease the pain the thick fingers bestow upon his nipples, tugging and squeezing them so harshly they feel like falling off. He hooks his shaking legs around the fat thighs, pushing and pushing, pained gasps escaping him until he feels the heated balls press against his cold and clammy skin.

“Good. Touch my balls,” Desmond orders, hands falling to his ass cheeks to knead the already bruised flesh some more. Dick doesn’t stop the tears from falling, sniveling. And gets a spank for it. “Now, now. A good whore would never dare neglect them. And you are my good little whore, aren’t you, Nightwing?”

Dick whimpers, gaze stuck at the reflection of the grinning villain.

“You like that?” Desmond asks, fingertips digging into his ass till Dick arches with the strain, body trembling. Hot breath fans over the side of his neck. “When I call you by your name, my little whore?”

Another harder squeeze follows before the hands turn gentler in their handling of his abused rear.

“Earn it.”

His frame shakes uncontrollably, but he bows against the strain of the cock as best as he can, small unsteady hands circling the big balls, trying to heat them up.

Desmond laughs behind him, mouth pressing to his back once more. “It’s ok, little hero. You don’t need to be a vibrator, just relax and warm me up.”

Dick closes his eyes, body slowly calming down but never quite stopping to quake. Every time he reaches the underside of the big churning balls he chokes, tongue pressed out. Eventually, Desmond holds him there, hands on his ass pressing him slightly forward to cover the last hint of revealed flesh.

Dick can feel himself growing lightheaded, cock choking him from the inside.

“You look so good kneeling and tugging my balls close, Nightwing. Maybe I should keep you locked up like that while I work.”

A hand caresses over his forced-out chest, curls around his throat, fingers tease the tip of his tongue.

“One day, I’m gonna watch as my cockhead emerges from your throat. Fuck you open all the way through.”

Dick already feels as if it is lodged in his throat, the tiny expansions of his chest and belly all but muscle memory as he breathes. His heartbeat rattles, deep beats desperately trying to pump blood through his distorted body. Fingers push into his slack mouth, stuffing his throat unbearably full, the collar fitting perfectly to his throat while Desmond undoubtedly imagines his newest fantasy.

Dick lets the half-consciousness take him, hands twitching around the hard balls. The cock rubs his insides with every grunt Desmond lets out, fingers never moving out of his throat, one hand still on his rear, fingers carving in.

Dick finds back to himself already gasping on the cold hard floor, drenched in cum. All he can see are the tiles, all he can feel is the cold wetness slowly drying inside his busted ass, chest itching but blessed by the coolness. His widened entrance all too slowly tries to pulse shut, and Dick wonders why bother if that hollow space inside him never leaves anyway.

One part of him wishes Desmond would never take him off his cock as he seems to float away again, the other part gazes at the ripped remains of Soames’ shirt gliding through the water and wishes Desmond had thrown him in instead.

Dick twitches ripped from his thoughts, hot wet force harsh against his insides, muscles tensing as he tries to get away, but a boot steps on his ankle, pressure increasing, and he freezes with a whimper.

“ _Don’t you dare._ You’ll take what I give you like the grateful little bitch you are,” Desmond growls, stream of piss only pushing into him deeper, ass overflowing. The wetness floods the tiles, touches his lips. The pungent smell invades his nostrils, eyes tearing up but only fueling their own pain as more filtered sperm flushes out.

The pressure eases. Drops slide down his spine, last bit of tainted liquid splashing across his skin. Desmond’s satisfied groan seems to reverberate inside the room. The zipper is pulled up again.

“ _Phew_ , that was close, little one.” A sigh. “Now to find a replacement for Soames... God, damn it. Just because he couldn’t even pretend to keep his eyes off you for one goddamn second. _”_ Desmond bristles, shoe pushing against his ass, hiking his hips off the ground, and bowing his spine awkwardly. The warm piss sloshes, more trickles out of his blown cavern. As fast as it came, the pressure falls away, and he crumbles to the ground again. “Don’t just lie there. Clean up your mess, I didn’t fuck you that hard, or I’ll keep your ass stretched open without anything filling your wanton little body till you beg for my piss.” 

Dick blinks, dead stare reflected by the glass of the tank. A piranha passes by, unbothered by his presence even as Dick’s heartbeat speeds up in longing desperation.

Desmond’s reflection disappears, and Dick slowly presses up, chain dragging across the floor. Another gust of piss escapes him and then steadily drips out of him, not able to be contained by his gaping abused frame.

Drying cum and piss decorate his skin. His pelvis and his pecks have swollen, his puffy nipples sting. His ass is sore from the kneading, insides bruised from the pen and jets of piss. His back is covered by a long sloping blue line dipping into his sensitive rim.

He carries on, licks the combination of fluids from the smooth hard tiles, ignoring what it means to swallow streaks of pinkish cum, and impassive when his tongue begins to turn numb and raw.

Desmond’s releases will be all the substances he is going to get for a while. He needs to make it count.

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Dick’s head rests on the carpet arranged for him to stare into the mirror, hands powerless beside his head. His legs are splayed over the large thighs like they usually are, only this time upside-down. The chain tugs on his neck every time Desmond moves just a tiny bit. The pinky emerges from his ass, twisting like a corkscrew. The metal jingles.

Desmond spits into his winking ass, pinky pressing in again to smear his claim deeper, and the heavy ball attached to the end of the chain is swallowed easily by his ruined body. As smooth and round and heavy as it is, it settles deep inside him, pulls the first inches of the chain into his ass.

Desmond watches his entrance pulse appreciatingly, rubbing against his rim with a thumb before letting more of the cold uneven chain slip inside of him, gravity doing its work. Dick slightly arches with the sensation, chain curling. The cold metal is swallowed fervently bit by bit, seeming to lump inside him. His bowels cramp, body growing hot with the new abuse.

His nails scratch feebly at the floor as he pants, large hand on his thigh keeping him from twisting away. And then suddenly helping him, forcing him onto his back, the chain slips lightly out of his ass and from beneath his spine as the loose collar swivels around his neck, bruising his collarbone as he is urged on to properly look at Desmond.

The lump in his lower abdomen looks so odd, feels so strange. Metal bunched up tightly.

Desmond makes it grow, feeds the chain to his ass till it pulls tight, his abused hole and neck connected by the trembling links of metal. Desmond chuckles, brushing over his thighs, down to feel the uneven, shifting bulge. His eyes glow.

“Lengthen your spine, fuck yourself.”

The chain rattles, tears wetting his cheeks, but he moves, pressing his chest out, head back and ass down to make the chain slip out and then in again, mouth panting, hands clawing.

“Such a depraved little whore,” Desmond smiles, watching him hungrily, bulging cock pressing hotly against his lower back, chain rattling from his shaking, distorted belly flexing.

“So many things I can do to you,” Desmond grips the chain in one hand, sending a reverberation down its length before it straightens again. His head is caught in the air, harsh edge of the collar digging into his sweaty neck. The other hand grabs down and pulls. The chain unfurls violently. Dick’s mouth opens with a silent scream, gaze forced to the ceiling as it rips out of him, fast and never ending, body spasming, “because all you need to come is me.”

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The bathroom tiles are slick with water from when Desmond rinsed him off. He hangs in his bindings, arms raised above his head, chain of his collar attached somewhere on the ceiling too. Legs spread like they always are, thighs cuffed to the wall, and the rest hanging uselessly.

Smelling fresh citrus even if artificial is nice. All Dick ever smells now is gathering sweat, musky cum, pungent piss, and thankfully near odorless spit.

Desmond is in a good mood, humming a tune beneath his breath, and Dick isn’t at all prepared for the green hose coming into his sight, lightly jerks. The smooth bore nuzzle presses against his ass, slips inside easily, and Dick writhes, trying to dislodge it.

His head is pushed flat to the tiles, hand covering his whole face. Dick grows still apart from a fearful twitch, the pressure increasing.

“Next time I have to do a deep clean I’ll be sure to push the spray gun up your ungrateful ass if this is how you decide to behave,” Desmond growls, pushing the nozzle deeper with a harsh shove.

Pants shake him, as it advances deeper till it gets stuck at a bend.

Desmond rubs over his rim, gets him to tighten, then pulls those fingers back.

The hand stays on his face, and Dick whimpers, rubbing against it, licking it apologetically until Desmond relaxes, fingers caressing down to his bruised chest before leaving.

The sharp gaze turns appreciative.

“You look so good no matter what I decide to stick inside of you. It’s honestly amazing, Nightwing.”

Dick lowers his gaze with a shudder, growing slack in his bonds. The green hose swivels slightly when his muscles relax, a cruel stimulation, but stays caught.

Desmond grins.

“You’ll look even better all dressed up, but before that,” Desmond steps out of sight to open the water flow no doubt, and Dick watches the hose slowly fill with water. For a while, Dick doesn’t feel any change at all. Then the cramping starts and finally the pressure develops, skin stretching out as he is filled with water. Gasps leave his lips, body starting to tremble and tears gushing down his cheeks.

Desmond watches him calmly, then opens the flow fully, pressure increasing.

Dick screams, hose twisting between his legs like an excited tail. The pressure he isn’t unfamiliar with. Desmond’s piss is just as harsh, and finally, the water starts to bubble out like everything eventually does. Dick is used to that part too, likes the clear water flooding his senses for a chance even if there is a hint of something just beneath that betrays a substance mixed into it.

But it doesn’t stop as everything else does, won’t stop until Desmond decides it’s enough. The steady stream keeps him open, water bubbling out of him, on and on and on.

Desmond’s laugh carries faintly to his ears as he burns up from the inside. Water is slurped from his open mouth, hose held deep inside of him by the fist pressed to his ass. Desmond uses him as a drinking fountain, broad tongue rubbing over his spasming appendage eagerly.

His ears pop with a dull sound, something easing, and his eyes swivel back, head bobbing, limbs twitching. He can’t breathe at all, doesn’t even try until a harsh slap to his chest forces him to choke on the water and spill it out messily.

Chest heaving, water splashing is all he senses for a while, then his chin is forcefully raised.

“Thought I’d lost you for a moment. Got too caught up in your beauty, my little whore.”

The hose is ripped out, his eyes widening, head thrown back, body aching as his bowels empty, high agonizing scream emerging.

His ass pulses around the emptiness, Desmond’s fingers rubbing insistently against his water slick rim till Dick can feel the heat.

It doesn’t make him cry less.

“Gorgeous,” the fingers push inside of him, force him into an arch along the slick tiles with a whimper, “And all mine.”

Dick shudders when the fingers pull out, Desmond disappearing out of sight for a moment before returning with something metallic in hand Dick doesn’t recognize.

“I need you on your best behavior today and tonight. Can’t have you orgasm against my stomach while I wear you out. I know you wouldn’t be able to resist. Hell, I won’t be able to wear you all night without at least fucking you once either.”

Dick barely gets what Desmond is talking about. Mostly because the concept is so sick, Dick doesn’t want to.

The metal ring is slipped on easily, first his balls pull through, then his little prick, but Dick whimpers again when the stainless-steel presses against the smooth head, the small cage just a cap.

“’esm’,” he tries, eyes tearing up again as he stares into the blue eyes. “,’eas’”

Desmond smiles, settles a kiss to his cheek. “There won’t be any damage, just tugging you away safely, little one.”

Dick whimpers, heavy head resting on the broad shoulder as Desmond pushes the device on him if it can even be called a device. Dick feels his flesh push together and nestle against his pelvis. The pressure isn’t absent, but it’s a discomfort Dick can’t find himself to care about. Not after everything else he has endured. The lock clicks, connecting the ring and the hood. Looking down Dick finds nothing more, but a small metallic button nestled into his balls.

Desmond appreciatingly brushes over it, caressing his skin through the open hole. Their gazes meet.

“To the finishing touch,” Desmond comments wryly as if preparing for a toast, lining up a short metal plug with the opening.

“No,” he chokes, biting his lip when it presses inside his tiny never stretched out slit, at least lubed now that he feels it. Desmond holds his finger there for a moment before letting go, letting him see. His prick has been reduced to a look-alike of an old-fashioned bell, snuggly pushed into the nest his balls create.

Desmond releases him from the wall, cooing as he falls against his chest, failing to tense even one muscle as sobs wreck his slick body. He’s carried out of the shower, dried off while slumped against the wall, slowly growing numb again.

Desmond gathers him up without ever turning away from his gaze, their chests nearly touching, and Dick reaches out on instinct. His hands feel painfully small on the massive trapezius muscles as he tentatively holds onto him with the slightest tremble.

The usually so monstrous eyes look at him near gently.

Dick doesn’t know how he looks, doesn’t want to know, but his fear, confusion, and vulnerability must be endearing because the hands on his skin soften too, big thumb brushing along his cheekbone.

“My adorable little hero,” Desmond whispers, pressing a clumsy kiss to his mouth as he is positioned back over the fat cock, head forcing him apart and body slowly engulfing the massive flesh like it has been trained to do.

Dick mutely stares up at Desmond, the angle so different. His chest is surprisingly free, but his spine is stretched out more harshly than ever.

“Just a few finishing touches, and we are ready to go.”

The leather gag forces his jaw apart, and his vision gets obscured by a familiar blindfold next. Dick trembles more so when the cuffs around his wrists and ankles are linked with the chain on his collar, slowly spreading his limbs and pulling him flush to the massive torso, head forced to the side. Desmond’s strong heartbeat echoes in his ear. 

His body vibrates with the deep chuckle that escapes Desmond next.

“This time the meeting will definitely not be boring,” is all Dick hears before his ears are plugged, every sense but touch and smell taken from him. Desmond dresses, fabrics caressing his skin, and then he is carried through the apartment, out into the office both of which have caused him so much pain. He feels the shift of gravity as the elevator starts to move down. New tears wet his eyes. He is out that door and still no freer than he was behind it.

Desmond sits down, Dick can feel the acceleration, knows they are in his limousine when a hand caresses over his back, staying there for a long while.

Dick tracks every shift of muscles he feels, even though there truly is no point apart from maybe keeping some resemblance of his sanity.

Smells reach him. Divine smells that make his mouth water. He wants to eat again so desperately, can all but taste pizza dough in his mouth, the crispy underside, the fluffy insides, tomato and cheese, oregano, and all the other toppings Dick finds a craving for.

Maybe he falls asleep, maybe he doesn’t, but he catches a whiff of lavender, and suddenly Desmond’s hands are around him, body parted by deep frantic thrusts that make him quiver, the pelvic ring straining beneath his skin. The telling twitch of the fat flesh hollows him out more and then nothing, his ass spasms madly around the emptiness before he is stuffed with wet cock again, leaving him gasping for air behind his gag, and body shaking as he is tightened around the big frame once more.

A hand rubs through his hair to calm him. His right ear pops. He hears a flushing sound, Desmond covering him up with clothes again.

Suddenly noises explode, so loud and confusing they make him try to curl further together and against Desmond till he realizes one of the earplugs must have fallen out. Calming his breathing, he listens to the conversations he can barely comprehend.

The sounds grow quiet again, muted by a door no doubt. Cool night air caresses across his back even through the clothes, and smoke tickles his nose. 

“Jeez, Roland! It’s as if you grow bigger every time, I see you! And I don’t mean the slight belly you are sporting today. Made some adjustments to the Blockbuster serum?”

“Belly?” Desmond laughs, squeezing his caught body tightly.

“No offense.”

“Nah, nah, it’s fine,” Desmond replies with a laugh that vibrates through Dick, and Dick nearly laughs too even though tears already streak his cheeks, “I’ve been indulging a lot lately. Had a theory that some types of pleasure might improve the serum’s effects, and I must say that my current indulgence has helped me quite a lot. I can keep in this form far longer without getting too high blood pressure–”

“And it seems to make you less inclined to anger. Though rumor is that might be because of a special person in your life,” Dick can practically hear the eyebrow wiggle, and it turns his stomach.

“Who says they aren’t connected?”

“… … Oh. _Oh!_ You’re saying… _right_. Sex does relax.”

“Definitely,” Desmond chuckles, “But you really think I grew?”

“Mhm. I definitely think you’ve gotten bigger.”

“Hmm. Didn’t notice any growth, but now that you mention it,” Dick feels fingers run down his spine, “now and then some things don’t seem to fit that perfectly.”

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Dick doesn’t know why Desmond is punishing him, maybe it’s no punishment at all. Maybe Desmond just wants to see him even more powerless. Thin metallic arms hold him open, digging into his fleshy walls, but nothing ever even pushes inside.

His arms are crossed behind his head, wrists cuffed to his loose collar, elbows held away from his body, so his arms stretch apart. His legs don’t fare better, tight robe forcing his feet to curve against his ass and keeping his legs fastened together. They too are pulled apart by his knees, exposing him.

Desmond never gave him his other senses back, worm still caught and plugged with metal. His joints hurt; his walls are drying out. All that pain dulls in comparison to the way his nipples are squeezed, pulled up and away, forcing his whole chest out as if he is a flower searching for the sun.

Dick wonders if this time Desmond will rip him apart.

In a way, he hopes for it.

He can feel the tube in his throat reaching so deep he doesn’t know where it ends, knows by it alone that he’ll be forced to remain this helpless for as long as Desmond desires.

Dick twitches as warm cum splatters over his front, muffled cry escaping him when it pulls on his abused nipples, makes his caught body quiver in its bonds, helpless like a fly caught in the spider’s web. The sticky hot seed gather’s wetly around his balls, worm still a mere button nestled between.

The next time it happens Dick is barely more prepared for it, thick stripes of cum coating his back, dripping down the crack of his ass, pooling on his stretched rim in a mockery of what he could have.

Eventually, something pushes inside him. Dick feels the rush of air before he ever feels the object. It rolls cool and smooth against his dry walls. It’s only then that Dick realizes how much they ache and how inflamed they feel. Suddenly, the thing ticks to the side, pressing into the opposite wall, and Dick knows what will happen even before it does it again and again, speed growing faster, punching his insides further open.

Dick screams and cries, spasming. His sounds reduce to warbles eventually as it goes on and on. A new surge of cum hits his face and chest.

The first thing that’s removed is the object, then the feeding tube. Dick’s throat hurts so much, and he doesn’t know wherever it was in him for that long or if his throat is raw from screaming.

“‘ _sm’,_ ” it’s barely a croak, but the next thing that slips away is the blindfold, and Desmond is smiling down at him, clearly amused. The earplugs disappear too, mouth pressing to his wet cheek.

“Missed me so much?”

“‘ _mn’_ ”

Desmond chuckles, pulling back to ease the strain on his nipples. Dick blinks down at the puffy redness, whimpering and straining in his remaining bonds when Desmond pumps them between his forefingers and thumbs. A fresh wave of tears spills over his dark lashes, the first hints of milk gathering.

“Shush little one,” Desmond speaks, fingers trailing down to his pelvis to detour to the thin flesh between his pubic arch and the swell of his stretched thighs. The urethral plug is unblocked, hot rod slipping out. Piss dribbles down between his legs, but this time Desmond doesn’t care. The cap is removed too just for a massive hand to curl around his abused prick, jacking his shaft harshly as if to lengthen it after being pressed tight for so long. It only makes him twitch in his bonds.

Desmond watches him intently. More piss slips out before his prick starts to harden, and Dick gasps and gasps and gasps. The sound layers with whimpers when every tiny twitch of his body is enough to press the thin metallic arms deeper into his inflamed walls.

“Do you want me to fill you with my cock again? Make you complete?”

Dick whimpers. The idea of Desmond’s cock pushing inside of him right now seems infernal even though he craved for it before his insides started to burn. Fingers push inside of him, dragging along his pulsing walls like sandpaper. _It hurts._

“You’re so dry without my cock. Do I make you that wet, Nightwing?”

“ea,” Dick whispers. Wet and filled sounds good. Like salvation.

Desmond chuckles, thumb rolling across his abused nipple.

“You know what I want.”

Dick whimpers, helpless wobbly cry leaving his lips as a mouth settles over his whole pec, sucking at his bruised skin as big fingers trail across his prick. The tongue flicks his nipple. Fingers teasing him.

Dick thinks he’ll never come until he does with a weak shake, liquid escaping his nipple in pulsing trails, greedily lapped up by Desmond like the finest nectar. The large mouth pulls back just to bestow the same torture to his other nipple, till he jerks with dry orgasms he neither needs nor wants.

Lips brush over his flaccid barely wet prick next.

“To imagine you were simply missing a good teacher all this time.”

Desmond pulls up, ruffling through his hair with a smile. “What a good little whore.”

Dick winces as his wrists are released from his neck, arms uselessly tumbling to his sides once his elbows are freed. His joints strain and feel like jelly.

Desmond holds him up as he lets the metallic arms collapse, pressure disappearing, and Dick sobs in relief even as his ass begins to pulse, weakly trying to pull together and bestowing more pain. He nuzzles against Desmond, arms spasming uselessly while his legs are calmly freed.

Pain races through him the second Desmond pushes his legs together, and he cries, shoulders rising pointlessly, fingers twitching, his reaction to claw into Desmond’s shirt nothing but aborted painful movements.

“Did I hurt you, baby?”

Dick snivels into the broad warm chest, grateful to be carried away from the pain. Warm water engulfs his skin, pushes inside his utterly exposed insides. It burns and soothes in one.

Desmond settles onto the couch, legs spreading out around the round basin. They seem like walls meant to cage him in.

Not knowing what to do, Dick looks up at the giant.

“Clean yourself,” Desmond prompts, watching him in interest. Dick tries to get his legs to cooperate, but they have been stretched and tugged together for so long they feel slack, and the pain doesn’t make it easier. For a while, all he can do is trash in the shallow waters like a bird with clipped wings.

Desmond hums, and Dick looks up again soaked and with his legs curled close. The familiar cock is already hard, glistening with lube.

“You want me inside you, don’t you?” Desmond asks, lazily stimulating his enormous shaft. Dick lets out a feeble sound.

“Then come on,” Desmond pats his thigh, “I’ll be gracious, let you engulf me on your own terms.”

Dick doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know how to get his limbs to cooperate. It all hurts, and he barely remembers the last time he could do more than crawl. But the huge cock looks inviting -slicked and fat and hot. A holy grail of veiny flesh.

Slowly, Dick pushes up to a kneel, hands white around the edge of the oversized birdbath. Then he pulls up on shaking legs, slipping like a newborn deer still soaked in its birth blood, and sinking down like a trembling leave at Desmond’s foot because moving hurts, and he feels so weak.

A faint moan caresses his ears, Desmond already stimulating his cock to his struggles. Dick steadies himself against the leg to get closer, but he has no strength to pull up onto the large thigh, barely standing as he is. Instead, he sinks onto his trembling knees.

One hand still on the massive thigh, he presses his mouth to the heated balls.

“ _God, you little wicked whore_ ,” Desmond groans, skin flexing beneath Dick’s hand, and his stomach plummets when he is swept up, promptly deposited on the bubbling erection. His stretched body slips around the smooth glans easily, the trail burning even with the lube lathered above.

Still, it wets the inflamed dry skin, and Dick shudders, body pleased.

“Does that feel good?”

“’’ _uh’_ ”

Desmond laughs breathlessly, leaning back with a hand caressing over his cheek. Gaze not leaving him as they face each other.

“Show me how good it feels, baby.”

Dick steadies himself by placing one hand over Desmond’s far bigger one, the other finding the strong wrist. He tries to push down, legs jerking. It burns, but he manages to grind the flesh deeper inside his tight wet body a little bit every time. His inflamed insides are tearing open, Dick knows, but there is no point in caring. The glide turns smoother with ever harsh push and jerky pull.

“Please me,” Desmond breaths, eyes bright as Dick pushes up and down the first inches of the huge cock, nipping on the finger pressing to his mouth, fanned hands holding it close. “Worship me.” 

“’esmnd’,” he breaths wetly, moaning when two fingers press into his mouth, banging against the back of his throat, then curving down. His hands brush along the massive arm, closed eyes opening to find the hungry gaze on him as he rides the thick cock, slipping a bit deeper with every move. Blood and lube frothing and bubbling along his red stretched rim.

Once he feels the heated balls press into his skin, relief floods him, mind transcending as he arches back on his own so he can reach for the churning balls, only held up by the pillar-like flesh. White pain sits in his lower back, cool in contrast to the burning skin inside him. His mouth is slack, spit drying on his lips, the fingers gone. His canted hips keep that last bit of sensitive flesh safely inside him, his own balls rewarded with the sensation of Desmond’s sharp trimmed pubic hairs. Hands brush over his limp thighs, legs spread around the broad waist. The chain attached to his collar is curled around one of the large hands, the links roll against his skin, singing of ownership.

“So good for me, Nightwing. A little cherub adorning my dick.” The fingers curl around his thighs, “I don’t think I’ll last longer than one trust. So tight. So wet… _Beautiful._ ”

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Every restless night during which he finds sleep instead of blissful unconsciousness, he dreams about dragging his fragile body up the harsh metallic stairs just to collapse into the open tank and find salvation in the cool water as nothing more but a cloud of blood being dispersed by fin tails.

He always wakes clammy and trembling, a clarity to his mind that leaves him shellshocked, but then he feels Desmond’s warmth beneath him, the thick flesh inside him, the hefty weight of a hand above him, the now golden chains keeping him close to his tower of strength, and the all-consuming presence eats the fried edges of his cracking mind until it soothes again.

Along the endless stream of pain and pleasure and each becoming one, the large hands begin to pin his flimsy arms to the mattress of the spacious bed just for the large beast to pant above him instead of moan beneath him, every deep powerful thrust of the enormous heated shaft thinning him out more and more.

“So good, baby, so tight,” Desmond breaths out, warming him with words and debauchery and the friction their bodies create, “my lovely little whore, my spoiled little Nightwing. _Oh_ , my trained Gotham trash, my prized living toy. Such a perfect Blüdhaven bitch. The most divine cock sleeve I’ll ever have, ever make, ever _own_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .  
> .  
>  _The End._  
> .  
> After Naturalization this took on a life of its own. I truly wasn’t prepared for that at all, but, oh well when the muse strikes it strikes.  
> Thank you for the positive reception thus far. Getting comments was totally unexpected, but I’m delighted that some people decided to drop a line. I hope I don’t offend by not answering to them. It’s just… I really don’t know what to say except _thank you for sharing your thoughts and emotions!_


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